


Stuffed

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Franken,” Marie said, her singular, beautiful golden eye seeming to drill right to his soul. “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen or you’ll be eating the next corpse you leave in here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuffed

There comes a point in every woman’s life when the sight of an eviscerated carcass on her kitchen table stops making her feel as though she is in a sick, twisted horror movie, and, instead, makes her feel as though she is in some terrible comedy with a bad author constantly pulling the same gags.

“Franken!” Marie yelled out, feeling her eyelid twitch as she turned away from the mess on her table. “ ** _Franken_** , you get in here, damn you!”

Okay, so perhaps it’s not a point in every woman’s life, but it certainly has become a point in Marie’s. She wondered how it got to this. Her roommate (er, lab partner with benefits? …boyfriend?) had, originally, agreed to keep any and all messes well contained within his biohazard of a bedroom (which was why they only ever spent the night in, well, _hers_ , because it was actually _clean_ , and had the least chance of potential radioactivity) but it seemed as though he’d forgotten such a promise.

This was the 8th time this month and it was the 12th. How was she supposed to make coffee in _this_ mess?

Marie sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping as she listened in to the sound of squeaking wheels and counted off in her head. Quickly, she stepped to the side so her doorway was clear and waited for the thud as Stein barrelled through, his rolling chair getting caught on the door jam, sending him sprawling over her immaculately clean floors.

As usual.

Marie looked down at him, her bumblebee socks making no noise on the hard floor even as she tapped her foot. Stein, for his part, looked as he always did: disheveled. The man looked constantly as though he got dressed in the dark whilst drunk. He blinked up at her, his green eyes more visible than usual due to his silver locks falling out of his face, his glasses askew.

“…Goodmorning, Marie.”

“It’s 3 pm.”

“Still.”

Marie rolled her eye, waiting until he righted himself and sat back down, rather heavily, upon his beloved chair.

“So,” he began, “is there a particular reason why you pulled me from my thesis work?”

Marie glowered, gesturing around her crime scene of a kitchen, only to be met with a blank look. With a groan, she stomped over to her table, snatching up the corpse of one of her lesser loved stuffed animals before she held it out, stuffing flying everywhere.

“Seriously? The reason, you soggy waffle, is that you gave Mr. Whiskers an appendectomy and forgot to stitch him back up!” she said, pieces of the stuffed animal going every which way as she flailed.

“Ah,” he said, and she noticed how he was slowly wheeling backward. “Yes. That.”

“Franken, what the hell? This is the fourth time this _week_.”

“I was…in need of something to do?”

“Bullshit. You’ve been working on your thesis about flesh eating bacteria day in and day out. I’ve heard ‘necrotizing fasciitis’ more than I’ve heard my own _name_.”

“Marie-”

“Is this because you’re weirded out that they sit on my top shelf while we have sex?”

He looked at her for a moment before he looked at the near unrecognizable bunny plushie in her hands, and she saw a visible shudder run through him. “They watch us.”

“They do _not_.”

“They _do_.”

“ _You’re_ creeped out by my stuffed animals? _You_? You thought a documentary on _enucleation_ was a great date idea.”

“It was a shame the procedure was so sloppy-”

“Franken,” Marie cut him off, her singular, beautiful golden eye seeming to drill right to his soul, and he sat up immediately, giving her his utmost attention as she drawled out: “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen or you’ll be eating the next corpse you leave in here.”

“But I’m allergic to the polyester,” he pointed out, and Marie threw her hands up, chucking the deceased body of her (once actually full of stuffing) stuffed animal to the table. 

“What a shame. Because I’m not cleaning this up,” she said, simply.

“A fair point,” Stein replied, and, for a moment Marie looked over him, her arms folding over one another before she sighed.

“You know, if you’re jealous that they take up so much of my bed-”

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” he insisted, all too quickly, his ears coloring just the lightest tinge of pink.

“-then you just have to say so,” Marie finished, giving him a knowing look as he looked away.

“I’m _not_ jealous.”

“Mmmmhm. I believe that.”

“I’m not, Marie.”

“Oh, Franken. Don’t you know that you’re the only one for me?” Marie said. And despite his protests, when he saw the tiny grin forming on her face, he couldn’t help but feel his lips tip up, too. 

“Yes, yes,” he replied, but stood from his chair without any protest to properly dispose of the body. Marie smiled up at him, looking at him expectantly, and he fidgeted for a moment before the color on his ears came over his nose. “Uh, ditto.”

Marie grinned, bumping his hip and standing up on tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek. 

“Good. And don’t forget to sweep the floor, babe!”


End file.
